East or West
by halfbloodwizard102
Summary: Percy Jackson apocalypse fanfic. That's all I have to say. Enjoy the flesh-eating!
1. Author's Note

****Disclaimer: I do not own any of the demigods or zombies.****

Percy Jackson apacolypse fanfic

That's all I have to say

If you don't like zombies then don't read it

***** spoilers for The Tyrant's Tomb *****

This is basically the alternate ending of TTT, where Apollo's summons for his sister fail. Diana doesn't show up and save him. Tarquin's zombies take over.

The best part: this _could_ literally be 100% cannon. The zombie apacolypse fits into the Riordanverse.

Also I can't promise that any of the characters are going to survive. Not even Percy Jackson himself.

I will try to update when I can. I am already working on a Harry Potter/PJO crossover, so I might get distracted.

Enjoy the flesh-eating!


	2. West

Vrykolakas. Or in Latin, immortuos. I like to call them zombies.

Four weeks ago, evil emperors Caligula and Commodus attacked Camp Jupiter. They had joined forces with Tarquin, the undead Roman king. His zombie army lead the first assault. Some of his minions were former members of the legion.

Tarquin had control of the Eurynomoi, dangerous Underworld creatures that once belonged to Hades. Even a scratch from their talons could infect you with a wasting disease. When you died from the Eurynomos poison, you rose again as a vrykolakas/zombie.

The chances of winning this war was slim. The Triumvirate had over fifty yachts loaded with onagers that slung highly explosive Greek fire. The undead outnumbered the living Romans ten to one. But the demigods had beaten unbeatable odds multiples times.

Lavinia, the pink-haired member of Cohort Five, lead the fauns and nature spirits to sabotage the catapults. Meg had dressed the unicorns up in dangerous battle gear. There were swords and spatulas attached to their horns. Lester was, well, not really doing anything. Reyna was nowhere to be found.

In the beginning, Camp Jupiter was losing badly. Then Frank challenged the emperors to a duel.

I never saw the fight. Apollo had apparently refused to let Frank fight them on his own. They were stalling for time, because Apollo summoned help from his sister, Diana (aka Artemis), with a magical ritual. Frank took on Caligula, and it was Apollo verus Commodus, his ex-lover.

They dueled in the Caldecott Tunnel. Which, at the moment, was stocked with gasoline tanks. Frank was weakening. He had taken several hard blows. In fact, he had three arrows sticking out of his shoulder. Caligula pinned him to the wall. Apollo was injured and helpless to do anything.

Frank pulled out his stick; the small piece of firewood that was his lifeline.

"For Jason," he said.

Then the stick burst into flames. Seconds later, the entire tunnel exploded. Apollo got out alive. So did Commodus, but Apollo strangled him (again). Everyone else was incinerated.

Downtown, in New Rome, I was fighting. Apollo and Meg appeared out of nowhere and began to help fend off the zombies.

"Where's Frank?" I asked. They didn't responded, but their faces told me everything.

Something inside me hardened. First Jason, now my boyfriend. It was too much. Tears pricked my eyes, yet I couldn't afford to cry. I was Hazel Levesque, daughter of Pluto, one of the seven chosen demigods. People needed me. I could mourn later.

"Where's Tarquin?" I asked. What I really meant was 'Where is someone I can kill to make me feel better?'

Reluctantly, Lester lead me to the bookstore. Through my haze of anger, I couldn't help but feel sorry for him. The veins of Eurynomos poision had spread to his face. He wouldn't last much longer. Apollo needed his sister's godly healing powers.

What happened in the library was a blur. I remember Tarquin yelling at Aristophanes, the cat. I remember unsuccessfully attacking the Roman king. Apollo was slipping away. Being in Tarquin's presence rapidly increased the poison's spread.

Meg was fighting off skeleton warriors. We kept glancing towards the door, hoping that any minute Diana would burst through and shoot a silver arrow into Tarquin's chest. It never happened.

I heard an anguished scream from Meg. I looked up from dueling the king. Apollo was on the ground, dead. No, he was getting up again. Then all the blood drained from my face.

The former god was officially a zombie.

I don't remember what happened next. Somehow I had Tarquin pinned down on the ground, my spatha impaled into his glowing violet heart.

To my surprise, he laughed. I stabbed down harder. Tarquin weakly raised his hand and snapped his fingers.

Below me, the ground trembled. The zombie king had been planning to send a second supply of undead soldiers through the sewage system. But there was no way they could get through. I had blocked all of tunnels. Being Pluto's kid was actually useful sometimes.

I heard the ripping of metal; the sound of a sewage grate being torn off. The footsteps of hundreds of thousands of marching vrykolakas echoed into New Rome. My blockades had failed.

"I curse you," said Tarquin. His skeletal face was grinning creepily. Why wasn't this guy dead yet?

"Wherever you go, the undead will follow," he continued. "You and your friends are condemned to a restless life, never able to settle because the vrykolakas will hunt you until you are one of them."

I should have been terrified. Instead, all I felt was pure anger. I leaned down into Tarquin's face.

"Everyone I care about is gone," I hissed.

He laughed again, though it sounded more like a cough. "No," said Tarquin. "Not yet. What about your Greek friends? Your brother?"

I shouted in rage and slashed him across the face. His rotting skull sliced cleanly in half. But his jaw kept moving and speaking.

"Also," wheezed Tarquin. "I curse the vrykolakas. They are no longer my minions. They are flesh-eating, brainless monsters that spread can spread the infection of the Eurynomoi."

His severed skull looked at me gleefully. "Now presenting the Hollywood zombie!"

The purple glow died in his eyes. The skeleton disintegrated, dust blowing away to settle on the bookshelves. Tarquin was dead.

Inside, I still felt empty. Killing Tarquin actually made me feel worse. The king dying forced me to admit that Frank was really gone. And so was probably most of the legion. Reyna and Lavinia had never come back. Their sabotage must have failed. It didn't matter anymore, because Camp Jupiter had already lost.

Growls sounded from behind me. Meg had cleared away most of the zombies; only a few remained. They had a hungrier look in their eyes. The twelve-year-old pointed with her golden scimitars at the pile of ash that used to be Tarquin.

"You killed the evil dude? Good."

I raised my sword. "Together," I said. Meg nodded. We charged.

In about three seconds the bookstore was empty. Except for one zombie. Meg's blade was an inch away from his neck.

"I'm sorry," she said to the figure that was once her best friend. Then she closed her eyes and swung her sword. Apollo's head sliced off neatly.

Meg looked at me. Her expression was heartbreaking. All the light in her eyes was gone, replaced with sadness and hatred.

"Let's go kill some more zombies," she said.

Three weeks ago, Camp Jupiter was burned to the ground.

Plan L had worked. The nature spirits had successfully stopped the onagers from firing. But the pandai were quick builders. They reassembled the catapults and loaded them with Greek fire.

We watched the flames from a distance. I pretended not to notice the tears running down Reyna's face. She had appeared in the midst of battle, gold sword swinging. We had barely escaped with our lives. The rest of the legion was gone, either dead or undead. Reyna's dogs were missing. And Apollo... well, he really didn't have any brains to begin with.

The former praetor of Rome looked at the sky.

"How could you let this happen?" she demanded. There was no response.

The perfectly blue atmosphere seemed to mock us. The sun shone as bright as always, not seeming to care that its god had just died.

I cursed the ground. My stupid father. I hated all the gods, but mostly him. Pluto had let the emperors escape, and those Eurynomoi had been his pets. He just sat back and watched as the entire Roman legacy died. Being the lord of death, he could have done _something_ to help.

Meg watched the clouds drift by. Her face was emotionless as she raised her hand and gave the gods the middle finger. Reyna copied.

Two weeks later, mortal society was gone.

Well, not gone. They were all zombies.

Oh, and did I mention that monsters still existed? My dad wasn't doing a very good job of keeping them in the Underworld. If the rotting corpse of a citizen wasn't trying to eat us, then mythological beasts were.

The three of us were slowly heading east. Maybe Camp Half-Blood was still standing. No, not maybe. The Greeks had to be okay. Percy, Annabeth, Nico... they couldn't be dead. I refused to even think of _maybe_.

Piper was in Oklahoma with her dad. Leo and Calypso stayed somewhere in the middle states. I couldn't remember which one. I hoped they were alive too.

Meg found a nice laundromat for us to sleep at. I snuggled deep into a hamper of white bed sheets, trying to ignore the acrid smell of rotting flesh.

One week later, Olympus was razed.

We could see the colorful smoke and fire all the way from California. It lit up the mid-noon sky like fireworks.

It was beautiful.

Monsters had stormed the palace. They burst into the throne room, expecting to get blasted with lightning bolts. Instead, they found it deserted, the twelve thrones nonexistent. The gods had faded away. There was no more Western Civilization. The mortals were gone. And the demigods that were left didn't believe anymore.

I waited for the tears to come. Camp Jupiter, my home, had gone up in smoke. The Twelfth Legion was family. Now they are dead. Like my boyfriend. But my eyes stayed dry. There wasn't time to cry during the end of the world.

One thing kept us alive: hope. The hope that Camp Half-Blood was still standing and our friends were alive. The hope that we weren't the only people left on the planet.


	3. East

I could tell you that the director of _The Walking Dead_ walked up and offered to give me a behind-the-scenes tour. But that would be a lie.

I've seen plenty of scary things in my life. Two brutal wars have happened in my hometown. Monsters of every size and shape have hunted me. I even took a vacation to Tartarus. Nothing prepared me for the apocalypse. My whole life I have battled dangerous mythological enemies, trying to save the human race. Then everything ends in the most boring way possible; people start binge-eating brains.

Doomsday began normal enough. I was heading to the training arena for swordfighting practice with my girlfriend. You know, like a regular teenager. I stopped when I saw Pollux sitting on rock, staring into the canoe lake.

I walked over to see if everything was okay. A long time ago, I had promised his dad that I would watch out for him. Even though I doubted Dionysus was still pretending to be a loving father, I felt obliged to check in on the kid.

"Hey, man," I said as I walked up.

Pollux jerked his head around to look at me. His eyes were bloodshot and had a wild light in them.

"Had a little too much to drink last night?" I joked.

In response, Pollux growled. His teeth were stained red, and I got the feeling that I wasn't from Kool-Aid. I tightened my grip around my ballpoint pen. We stared at each other for a heartbeat. Then Pollux lunged, his mouth open wide. I stumbled back and smacked him in the forehead with the hilt of my sword. He stumbled backwards and fell into the lake.

I sprinted towards the Big House. First rule in horror movies: tell an adult. I burst in on a game of pinochle. Grover dropped his cards in surprise. Mr. D glared. Chiron just sighed.

"What is it now?" asked my former Latin teacher.

I just stared at them. How do you tell someone that their son just tried to eat you?

"Percy?" asked Grover. His half-eaten soda can was forgotten on the table.

"Brains," I whispered.

Chiron and Grover looked utterly confused. Mr. D stood up. His expression was dead serious.

"How many?" he asked.

"Just one..."

"Who?" demanded the god.

I hesitated.

The Diet Coke fell out of Dionysus' hands. "No."

I looked at the ground. For some reason, I felt guilty, like this was my fault.

"What's going on?" asked Chiron. His brow was creased in worry.

Mr. D turned towards him. "Vrykolakas," he said.

I cleared my throat. "Um, I'm pretty sure it's pronounced 'zombie'," I corrected. "With a little accent over the _e _"

Chiron stood up abruptly. He opened his mouth to give orders. A knock at the door interrupted him.

"Don't open it," said Grover sharply. We didn't. The zombie did.

Drew Tanaka stood there. Her neck was bent at the wrong angle. Blood dripped from her jewelry, making the diamonds look a little more like rubies. She hissed and I saw all the little pieces of flesh stuck between her perfectly straight teeth.

_Every heard on dental floss?_ the ADHD part of my brain wondered.

A tin can flew past my ear and hit Drew in the face. She groaned in annoyance and stepped towards us. Mr. D. waved his hand and she disintegrated into a pile of grape-scented ash.

I gawked at him, "I thought gods weren't allowed to help mortals directly in battle."

Dionysus winced. "Soon, there might not be any more gods," he said.

Another figure appeared in the doorway. This time I was ready. Riptide felt slippery in my hands. As soon as the camper was close enough I swung. Luckily, Nico had good reflexes. He dodged Riptide, moving faster than a lightning strike. My blade sliced harmlessly through the air.

"I don't think the zombies would appreciate you killing me before they got the chance to," Nico said dryly.

"Your not dead," I said with relief. "Wait... or is it undead?"

Nico rolled his eyes. He turned to Chiron.

"Almost the entire camp had been infected," he stated.

"W-what?!" Grover stammered. He looked like he was going to pass out.

Nico's expression was grim. "This poison spreads extremely quick."

"You should've seen what it did to the Romans," muttered Mr. D.

"WHAT!" I exclaimed, much louder than Grover.

"Evacuate the camp," ordered Chiron. "Now."

Grover rushed out the door. I called after him. He ignored my warning. "Juniper," he yelled over his shoulder. "I have to find her."

To me, only one thing mattered right now: Annabeth. I looked at Nico. He was staring out the window towards Cabin Seven. Realization dawned on me. Will Solace, his boyfriend, was out there too. But the son of Hades looked at me with determination. We knew that safety was in numbers. Even the cheesiest apocalypse movies taught you that.

"Annabeth first," said Nico. I stared at him in shock. Are we really deciding who would live and who would die? Nico started towards the door. I tried to follow, but Mr. D stopped me.

"Pollux," he asked. "Where is he?"

"In the canoe lake."

Dionysus sighed, "Percy, don't you know zombies can't drown!"

He waved his hand and vanished into thin air. I stared at the spot where he had been standing. Mr. D had actually remembered my name.

"Come on," Nico urged. I raised my sword and together we charged into the bloodbath.

Even my ADHD brain couldn't keep up with the chaos. As we ran, I sliced at zombies blindly. One, two, three. Malcom, Katie, Lou Ellen.

"Sorry," I called back to the beheaded figures that had once been my friends. Nico and I burst into the training arena.

Annabeth and Clarisse were an impressive duo. Drakon bone sword and electric spear hacked away at the flesh-eating mob surrounding them. Even so, they were badly outnumbered. Nico was right. The infection had spread too quickly.

I started to slashing my way towards them. Anaklusmos was dripping red. I always killed monsters, which exploded into yellow powder. My blade rarely got the taste of demigod blood.

"Percy!" Annabeth called, her voice full of relief.

I flinched as a zombie whirled around to face me. Under the rotten flesh, Connor Stoll was barely recognizable. Before I even knew what happened, his head was rolling on the ground. My sword suddenly felt heavier in my hands. Did just do that?

I felt a hand on my shoulder. I jumped. Annabeth was there, her beautiful gray eyes full of distress. The mob was gone. Behind us, Clarisse spat on the ground.

"My dad gave me a boatload of zombies one time," she said. "They were pretty cool... when I controlled them."

Nico cleared his throat. I looked at my girlfriend.

"We have to go get Will," I told her.

"I'm coming with you."

Everyone looked at Clarisse. She sighed. "Me too, I guess. Someone has to save your pathetic butts."

The struggle to Cabin Seven felt like a dream. Or rather a nightmare. I felt like I was watching myself from above; delivering deadly blows to the undead. I refused to look at their faces. Once, a little girl almost got a bite of my ankle. I'm pretty sure it was Lacey from the Aphrodite Cabin.

When we finally reached the steps, Annabeth tried the handle and saw the door was locked.

"Watch out," warned Nico. He kicked it open.

There were two dead zombies inside. I recognized the green hair of Kayla Knowles, and the massacred body of Austin Lake. Standing over them was their brother Will Solace. His camp shirt was splattered with blood. When he saw Nico, relief washed over his face. He ran over to his boyfriend.

Clarisse broke up their tender reunion hug. "We need to go-"

A shadow appeared in the doorway. A zombie was standing there, his hands and face dripping red.

"Chris?" whispered Clarisse in disbelief. Suddenly she didn't look like a bossy, tough warrior anymore.

"Clarisse," Annabeth said gently. "He's not there anymore."

The daughter of Ares just stared. The zombie took a step towards her. Suddenly a small, shiny piece of metal flew through the air. It impaled itself in his chest. Chris stumbled, then fell to the ground.

I looked at the projectile weapon that killed him. It was a pair of Celestial bronze tweezers. I looked at Will. His jaw was squared in determination. Pro tip: if you're a zombie, don't attack a doctor with armed with sharp medical instruments.

Clarisse glared at him, "You killed my boyfriend," she hissed.

Will shrugged. "You're welcome"

"Come on," urged Annabeth, who was already halfway out the door.

We again plunged into battle. The five of us fought our way towards the hill. The flesh-eaters moved kind of slowly. We reached Thalia's tree easily enough. Then everything went downhill from there (sorry, bad pun).

We stepped over the camp boundary and time sped up. The magical protection of the golden fleece had slowed the zombies' movements. Outside, they moved just as fast as normal humans.

Remember Butch? The muscular son of Iris that had rainbow tattoos and talked to ponies? Well, he didn't eat organic like his mother anymore. Instead he craved human flesh.

I heard a scream from Annabeth. She and Nico were pinned up against the tree. Butch had his beefy arms on either side of them, and he was leaning in for a bite.

"Nico, GO!" I yelled.

He looked at me, panicked. His desperate eyes slid over my shoulder to the person standing behind me. Will. I understood him perfectly.

"I promise," I said.

Nico hesitated a second longer. "Me too."

The shadows around them seemed to grow taller. In the blink of an eye, Nico and Annabeth were swallowed by darkness. Butch took a bite of pine bark. Clarisse, Will and I sprinted towards the skyline of Manhattan.

_I promise._ What had I promised? To keep Will Solace alive during the apocalypse? Or to try? Last time I promised Nico something, I failed. I had sworn to keep his sister Bianca safe. How could he possibly trust me with something this important again?

But Annabeth was with him. Nico said he would look out for her. I was counting on him like he was counting on me.

"Where are we going?" panted Will as we ran.

"Camp Jupiter," said Clarisse without hesitation.

The conversation in the Big House replayed in my head.

_"This poison spreads extremely quick" _Nico had said.

_"You should have seen what it did to the Romans"_ muttered Mr. D.

I bit my tongue. We didn't have any better options. Even from a distance, I could see the orange glow of New York City burning. Maybe there were some survivors at Camp Jupiter. The Romans were tough. California was our best option. I got the feeling Nico was heading west, too.

And I would travel to the ends of the earth to find Annabeth.


End file.
